Simply profound
Award-winning Kate DiCamillo is huge in The States and, thankfully, most of her books are also published over here, by Walker Books. She is a rare and remarkable author who frequently writes relatively short novels, apparently simple in content, but that that leave you thinking, ‘Yes, that’s what’s important in life.’. She is a master of gentle allegory and, through it, succeeds in plumbing depths of universal feelings whose expression could so easily come across as simplistic or sentimental. She knows how to make story speak straight to the heart.
Her latest book, The Puppets of Spellhorst is no exception. In fact it is a wonderful example of precisely these qualities.
No strings but close ties
A group of five puppets, a girl, a boy, a king, an owl and a wolf are sold, bought, given away and ‘acquired’. They are wanted for the memories they evoke and for those they can create. They are both regret and potential. They are the freedom of wind through wings, even if the feathers are fixed to fabric. They are wooden teeth that could bite, even if they are replaced and crooked. They are the yearning for destiny. They are undiscovered magic. They are the joy of learning to sing.
Kate DCamillo very cleverly creates eponymous characters that succeed in bridging worlds, and thus bringing those worlds close together. They are traditional puppets, perhaps lovable and almost frightening. They are stereotypes and archetypes. They are enigmatic. They are fascinating agents of storytelling. Yet, at the same time, they are avatars, representatives of our own experiences and feelings. Through them, the novella becomes a sensitive reflection on story itself, on the potential and importance of story and on the relationship between story and life, each playing out the other. It quietly questions whether, despite us wanting to force distinction between fantasy and reality, between puppets and humans, they may ultimately be the same thing. Each is freed by imagination, the same imagination.
Kate DiCamillo celebrates the links between story and adventure, the importance of living the moment, seizing the day, not simply embracing its opportunities, but actively seeking them out. Symbiotically she embraces the importance of family (whatever form it may take), of friends (wherever we find them), accepted for what they are, annoying traits and all. They too are part of our story. We cannot be sold separately. There is no story without us all.
Finishing off
Julie Morstad’s drawn images have the same profound simplicity. They are childishly revelatory, poignantly expressive. They point up and complement the text perfectly . In fact, like the final glorious double-spread image of camel riders, they complete it wonderfully.
